


We'll Keep You Close (We'll Make You Ours)

by ArtsyDeath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bathing/Washing, Double Penetration, Dubious Morality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Harry Potter, First Time, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Hermione Granger, Possessive Ron Weasley, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Sex, magic sex toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 06:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyDeath/pseuds/ArtsyDeath
Summary: After everything is said and done Harry stumbles into the Room of Requirement, mind buzzing from her meeting with death, from the realization that Tom is dead - that it's all over, feeling strangely disconnected from the world as she curls up.But Hermione and Ron will always be there to bring her home, no matter what.-Or: they've always been together but it takes one part of their trio dying to drive in just what that means as dynamics shifts into something new in the face of desperation and survival.





	We'll Keep You Close (We'll Make You Ours)

Harry doesn’t remember leaving.

There’s a strange disconnect as she stumbles down crumbled hallways, past dead bodies and through the door of requirement which opens up for her with a replica of her Privet Drive bed, allowing her to fall right into it.

_I died._

The betrayal still rings hollow in her chest – Albus last orders, his last request, Snape’s anger on her behalf strange and buzzing as she curls up on her side, back to the door, staring down at the blood still on her hand, the dirt beneath her nails.

_Tom is dead._

There’s no connection remaining between them, no pain, the scar for once just a scar and nothing more.

She thinks of her parents back in the forest, thinks of Sirius and then – Remus, the realization that he was dead ringing hollow as he smiled gently at her.

They were all dead – there was no returning back for them, no matter how she wished and wanted and begged for it.

So she lies there, fading in and out, nearly asleep when a hand settles on her shoulder – startling her as she drags her eyes open.

“You left,” Hermione says quietly, crouched in front of her, Ron’s hand tightening on her shoulder as she gives her a blank look – mind fuzzy, not quite making sense of their appearance. “Without telling us where you were going.”

Harry knows that she should offer apologies but the world is still distant – strange – and she can’t find her mouth, can’t find her limbs, her body not quite her own, and Hermione reaches out, gently brushing short hair away from her eyes, a little furrow in her brow that Harry wants to smooth out.

She finds herself gently guided into a sitting position – jacket unzipped, buttons loosened one at the time, and Harry knows that she should be feeling embarrassed to be undressed by her best friends but she can’t muster enough energy or feeling to care as it’s pulled down one arm and then the next with a little shiver as she’s left in just her bra.

“We’ll take care of you,” Hermione murmurs gently. “It’s okay.”

Harry can feel Ron’s palm against her back, against the thick stretch of scars there that she normally would have hurried to cover, but all he does is shift enough to undo her bra and her breasts are bared with a pebbling of her nipples in the cold of the room.

Her shoes are pulled off and stuffed aside and Hermione opens the button of her jeans as Ron shifts behind her, one arm wrapping around her, just beneath her breasts, lifting her up just enough to allow Hermione to pull them down and off her along with her underwear.

Harry is left completely naked, struggling to make sense of the situation as she’s hoisted up and into a pair of strong arms and then guided down into steaming water with a jerk and a noise of protest as her skin is painfully reminded of its existence.

But then a pair of arms are wrapping around her, pulling her against an equally bare body, pinning her arms down against her sides.

 _“Sssh,”_ Hermione says gently. “It’s okay, it’s okay-“

Harry can feel her breasts against her back, her skin prickling at the feel of the other, arms drawing her tight as her mind fuzzes and she very slowly relaxes against her.

The water rises as Ron slips in opposite them, several jars in his arms that he arranges on a wooden stool beside the tub before shifting, kneeling down between the spread of her legs with something that tickles flowery on her muted senses as he pours generously into the palm of his hand, bottle placed away and hands rubbed together.

The first span of his hands against her shoulders makes her tense up, breath stuttering as he strokes down, drawing back, getting her neck and throat and upper chest with rough palms that leaves her skin prickling.

He scrubs her hands clean, making sure to get the dirt out from beneath her nails, massaging feeling back into her arms one at the time before reaching down to repeat the process with her feet and something warm curls low in her loins as he reaches high on her thighs, just close enough that the tips of his fingers brushes against the curls of black hair between her legs.

He pours more oil and her breath hitches as he settles his palms on her upper chest, drawing down over her breasts as she squirms back against Hermione’s chests, looks exchanged as he slows, taking his time before stroking down and over her belly before drawing back.

Hermione nudges her into a bow and her hands are gentle as they clean her back and all the way to her rump, nails dragging up her side to a soft noise.

Water is cupped, her hair wetted and cleaned from dirt and blood and Hermione’s fingers strokes idly over her belly, tickling just above her pubes as Ron brushes wet hair from her face, his eyes gentle. “Hey there, mate,” he whispers as she peers up at him, blinking tiredly. “Don’t worry,” he breathes as Hermione’s hand slips between her legs to a hitch of her hips. “We’ll take care of you.”

Harry moans with an arch of her back as fingers curl into her and Ron tilts his head, slanting his lips over hers as she squeezes down on Hermione’s fingers.

She opens her mouth willingly, allowing their tongues to tangle as he grasps her hair, drawing her head back while Hermione grounds her palm against her clit to a whimper, gasping helplessly into Ron’s mouth and his eyes glitter knowingly as he draws back, angling lower to drag his tongue up the skin of her neck as she squirms.

“We should take this to the bed,” Hermione murmurs, fingers curling and dragging against the bundle of nerves near the entrance to a jerk before slipping all the way out.

Ron rises first and Harry swallows at the sight of him – tall and strong, a fuzzy red trail leading down to the large cock jutting out proudly between his legs. His mouth pulls up as he leans down and Harry gasps as she’s easily hoisted up and set down on her feet, a splash behind her as Hermione followed, a towel soon being scrubbed over her.

The bed they deposit her on is much larger and softer than the one she’d slept in at the Dursley’s and Hermione straddles her, leaning down and kissing her fiercely, hungrily, something Harry troubles to place glinting in her eyes as she draws back, stroking her thumb beneath her eye.

And then she leans down again, deepening it, stroking her tongue against hers, coaxing her into a clumsy response as Ron climbs into the bed and settles beside them, watching as he wraps his hand around his cock, stroking it almost lazily.

Hermione draws back, trails down instead, sucking dark bruises into Harry’s neck, teeth dragging over her skin, biting down in a show of claim to a whimper, tongue brushing soothingly over the skin as a tremble runs through her body, head tilting back.

Harry isn’t used to touch – not like this, not more than the occasional hug, a hand grasping hers, shoulders bumping.

But this – arms pinned down by Hermione’s legs, her very naked body above her, the feel of her rump against her pelvis, the feel of her mouth, of her hands – it’s all terribly overwhelming and she gasps, fingers twisting in the covers, back arching as a mouth seals over her nipple, wet and warm and _sucking._

Colour spreads down her cheeks and chest at the sight of Hermione’s mouth on her breast, lips sealed tight, tongue flattening against the hard nipple as a helpless noise leaves her mouth.

“Merlin, that’s hot,” Ron groans, fisting himself tightly, hand dragging up and over the crown of his cock, foreskin tugging and shifting with his motions, a drop of pre cum caught and used to aid the motion and Harry’s skin darkens further at his words.

She doesn’t quite understand this new development but it’s something she’s been craving for months – eyes shut tight and hand between her legs as she listened to their coupling when they thought her asleep in the darkness of their shared tent, sometimed during watch – bare for the world to see as she slipped fingers into her, eyes closed to hear the low wet smack.

“-‘Mione,” Harry gasps, hips rising as she bites down and Ron laughs a bit breathlessly at her reaction.

“Got quite a pair of teeth on her, yeah?” he teases.

Hermione draws back with a little swipe of her tongue that makes Harry twitch.

“Why don’t you prepare her?” She raises a sharp eyebrow at Ron, a sort of no-nonsense tone that is very familiar to all of them and makes Ron release his cock, palms up in a _well, excuse me_ motion that was softened by the good-willed humour in his eyes.

“I was just enjoying the show,” he tells her, leaning forward and snagging Hermione into a deep kiss, drawing her off Harry and into his arms with a shift of her hips, pushing up into it as Harry watches them a bit breathlessly.

Before she can start feeling left out Ron detaches himself and Harry tries not to show just how much out of her depth she feels as he settles himself between her legs, embarrassment curling in her gut as he bent down nudging her legs up and around his neck, heels settling against his back, feeling far too exposed.

But Ron winks at her and then he bends down, broad tongue dragging from the bottom of her folds and all the way up to her clit, spreading her labia, the very tip dipping down against her entrance and she tenses, pushing up and dragging him down with an arch of her back, a cry leaving her mouth, biting down in an attempt to muffle the next one as he traces her out, flattening against her clit.

Hermione’s fingers pushes against her lips, her breath warm as she presses her lips against her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmurs gently. “We want to hear you. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Harry whimpers, shaking her head, knuckles white where she’s grasping the covers and Hermione hums.

“It’s okay,” she repeats as Ron curls his tongue, pressing against her entrance and then into her, dragging over the sensitive nerves there and Harry jerks, bending up to push him away but Hermione catches her, sliding in behind her and drawing Harry back against her chest – pleasure twisting through her, too much and too fast, muscles knotting tight as he pushes up inside of her, nose mashing against her clit with his fervour.

Tongue inside of her she cries out sharply as Hermione bites down on her ear, giving it a sharp tug as her back bows and she clamps down hard – heels digging into Ron’s back, toes curling as she twists sharply to dislodge him and he allows it with one last curving lick to catch her slick, lips glistening as he pulls back and gives her a gentle shrug off his shoulders.

He twists up and presses his lips to Hermione who moans, tongue tracing up and over his lips to taste the slick there, mushing Harry between the two, allowing her to feel Hermione’s breasts and Ron’s broad chest, his cock brushing against her belly.

She swallows, loosening her grip on the sheets and reaches out – grasping his cock, dragging her fingers loosely down it, feeling the drag of his foreskin as he does a little jerk in surprise, groaning into Hermione’s mouth as he slowly pulls himself back and Harry flushes, yanking her hand back.

“Do you want to taste me?” Ron asks, cocking his hip almost teasingly. “Hermione can almost get me all the way to the root.”

Harry swallows, glancing at Hermione – trying to imagine it and her friend raises an eyebrow in silent question, fingers smoothing back black hair from her face, touching momentarily to the scar there.

“Anything you want,” Hermione promises her.

Harry shifts carefully and Ron settles back, anticipation in his eyes, mixing with a little bit of surprise as she bends down and before she could think twice about it pressed her tongue flat against his cock, dragging it all the way up before pushing down, lips spreading, pushing against the foreskin to bare the broad head as Ron swallowed, eyes widening as she took him deeper and deeper, letting him curve into her throat, holding him there as he trembles, mouth opening in shock as she drags all the way off him.

“No gag-reflex,” she tells him a little flush at the admittance and Hermione laughs at Ron’s gobsmacked expression, something terrible fond in her expression as she bends forward to press her lips to Harry’s shoulder.

“You just made his day,” she murmurs into Harry’s ear, giving the lobe of her ear a teasing little tug as she pressed up against Harry with just enough weight to keep her back curved.

“Please do that again,” Ron pleads and Harry’s lips twitches up as she opens her mouth and pushes all the way down, burying her nose into his prickly pubes, swallowing around him as he cards his fingers through her short hair, something very close to awe as he gives her a little tug back and off him before pushing down on her head to urge her back down.

Harry breathes carefully through her nose as he sets a rhythmic bobbing motion, curling her tongue around him as best as she can, tasting the strange saltiness of the pre cum when it beads at the top, twitching as Hermione dips a hand between her legs and pushes into her, making her squeeze down tight, fingers dragging as they pump into her in motion with her bobbing.

Harry can feel Hermione’s breath puffing against her ear, acutely aware of the two pairs of eyes that watches her swallow the cock of the only male in their trio while fingers pump into her, twisting with a slick noise that makes her twitch.

Ron is getting tenser and tenser, pushing her all the way down before dragging her up. “Fuck,” he pants. “Fuck- I’m going to-“ He gives her a jerk to get off but Harry pushes stubbornly downwards, practically melding herself against him as she hums out a protest and he _swears_ , grasping and pushing up, balls surprisingly soft against her chin as his cum shoots down her throat – warm and strangely sticky as she swallows, giving a small suck as he pulls back, tongue flicking up against the slit.

“Fuck, mate,” he gasps, drawing her up and pulling her into a filthy kiss as she smiles against his lips, Hermione’s fingers slipping out of her, absently wiped away on a bare thigh.

“How are we doing this?” she asks, wrapping herself around Harry and putting her chin back on her shoulder as Ron pulls back with one last stolen kiss.

“I-“ Harry bites down on her lip, unsure how to give words to the deep aching _want._

“You can tell us,” Hermione urges.

“Yeah, mate.” Ron tickles fingers against her ribs, making her twitch. “Anything you want,” he repeats Hermione’s words and Harry swallows.

“I want to feel both of you – inside of me,” she admits, flushing.

Ron and Hermione exchanges heavy looks and Hermione dips a hand down to grab her rump possessively. “Dibs,” she says with a little grin and Ron snorts, eyes glittering.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” he breathes, pushing her back against Hermione. “’Mione knows how to be gentle.”

Harry would have snapped something clever back but she is distracted by the bottle of oil that appears in Hermione’s outstretched hand. “I do love this room,” she says, catching Harry’s look with a twitch of her lips. “Come here.” She pats her lap and Harry trades one best friend for the other – hovering a bit unsurely until Hermione pulls her down and over her lap, leaving her bottom up and bare, eyes widening in surprise as the other rubs an appreciative hand over her flank.

The position feels strange – vulnerability worming through her and she struggles not to tense as Ron helps spreading her cheeks open, ducking her head into the comfort of the covers as Hermione tears the cork open with her teeth, spitting it aside and pouring generously over her hand and down against her, rubbing up against the pink puckered entrance and the tight ring of muscles there.

She hands the bottle to Ron and Harry shivers as she traces down and pushes up against her, causing her to automatically tense up.

“Sssh, just relax,” Hermione murmurs, rubbing soothingly, and Harry swallows as she forces herself to focus on the gentle press of her finger, whimpering with a twitch of her hips as she felt herself spreading out, finger slowly stretching her out past one knuckle, settling tight against the beginning of her palm.

“Look at her, Ron,” Hermione says breathlessly and Harry’s face burns, the stretch strange, ring tightening and relaxing experimentally around the digit.

Hermione draws out and pushes into her and Harry swallows as a second finger stretches her out, squirming as they twisted up inside of her with a squelch from the oil that made the tips of her ears darken, mind buzzing as Hermione pushed up into her with enough force that she rocks a bit forward painfully aware of the knotted tension low in her gut with every movement.

She’s relieved when Hermione pulls out of her, pushing up on her hands and knees to shift from her lap as Ron throws a strap-on to Hermione who runs an admiring hand down the green surface of it. “It matches her eyes,” she says approvingly as Ron slips up beside her and Harry tilts her head, lips pressing together, breathing sharply into Ron’s mouth as Hermione drags the toy up against the palm of her hand, letting her feel the thickness, the curve of the head.

“It’s a magical strap-on,” Hermione says with a kiss against her spine. “I’m going to be feeling every inch of you.”

Harry twitches, watching as she loops it in place with an arch of her back and a tickle of magic as Harry’s mouth goes dry and Hermione grasps at it with a twitch and a heady little breath, eyes dark and intent as they settle on her.

“Why don’t you lie down, Ron?” Hermione suggests with breathy want and Harry watches as Ron settles back, cock broad and thick and standing straight up, beckoning her towards him as Hermione gives her a little nudge forward and she crawls on her hands and knees, shifting carefully, up on her knees with an arm that loops around her waist and helps her keep in place, breasts pushing up against her back.

Anchored in Hermione’s hold Ron puts a steadying hand on her hip, grasping his cock in the other as they together guides her down just enough to push the round head up and against her entrance, straining as Harry tenses up, head shaking, knees straining to keep from pushing down.

“Too big-“ she gasps. “It’s too big-“

“You just need to relax,” Hermione urges gently and Harry’s back arches with a wretched sort of noise as she’s given a little push down, feeling herself spreading open wide as her pupils dilate, sweat beading on her back, gasping as the had popped into her, feeling the way her body settled around it as Ron gave a little groan and hitch of his hips that made her nails dig deep into Hermione’s arms.

She trembles, straining, breathing coming in short sharp exhalations from tense muscles contracting even as Ron rubs soothingly down her bare thigh, nonsense words of comfort barely registering as Hermione gives her a little push down, feeing inch after inch into her as Harry’s mouth opened in a wordless cry, tense as a bowstring but forcing herself not to clamp down as Ron settled deep inside of her.

Harry stares blankly down at the few inches still not inside of her, something strange twisting in her gut at the sight of Ron inside of her, spread wide on his cock, a niggling worry at the back of her mind drowned out by new sensations.

“This is going to be easier if we can get her all the way down,” Hermione says to Ron and Harry finds herself dragged up, the sensation raw and strange as she’s then pushed back, guided with care, lips against her neck, reassurance offered in steadying touch and arms tight around her, everything intense and overwhelming, her heartbeat loud in her ear.

When she’s pushed down tight against Ron’s pelvis, feeling the way he hilts up against something deep inside of her with a gasp, tears prickles at the corners of her eyes, Hermione gently unwinding from her with a press of her lips against her shoulder.

“You’re doing so well,” she reassures and Harry allows herself to be pushed down against Ron, resting her cheek against his chest as he cards fingers through her hair.

“’Mione is right,” he says with a kiss to the crown of her head. “We’ve got you, mate, he reassures her.

Harry focuses on the smell of him – past the underlying cloying scent of ash that wouldn’t leave her alone after watching Tom crumble to nothing, his mouth open, horror twisting up in him those last few seconds as their eyes met, something very close to pleading in the cry of her name.

Hermione pushes up against her and Harry strains, closing her eyes shut tight as she gives a little push back, aided by oil and the stretch as Hermione disappear deeper and deeper into Harry’s body, back bowing, teeth clenched tight as she stretches obscenely around the two cocks inside of her, feeling the way Hermione’s settles tight alongside Ron’s – her pupils pinpricks as Hermione’s pelvis pushes up against her rump.

The strange disconnect from the world is completely eradicated in the face of these new sensation overwhelming everything else, her chest heaving, breathing rasping while Hermione and Ron remain steadfast and calm, waiting, allowing her to get used to the strange feeling – and she's well aware that she’s taken water far over her head with her request but unwilling to admit to it.

“Can I move?” Ron asks her and Harry gives a sharp tense nod that makes her two best friends exchange looks.

Ron shifts carefully, pulling out and then pushing in, allowing her to feel the drag, the way he strokes up alongside Hermione’s cock and then guides her down on him again, repeating it with an experimental little thrust that pushes up against her cervix with a bump that makes her shoulders knot.

Harry gasps as Hermione pulls out alongside Ron with the next drag, pushing into her in tandem, the smack of Hermione hilting up into her ringing through her mind as she keens, pain and pleasure twisting together as they take her with increasing force and movement, pushing her body past rhyme and reason as Hermione grasps at her hips, fucking into her as Harry struggles to hold on.

“Do you have any idea what it was like,” Hermione gasps, “to see you walk off to _die?_ ”

There’s something wretched in her voice, a desperation that makes her hilt into Harry hard, a sort of punishing harshness that came from desperation.

“Never again,” Ron says with a hard push into her. “You’re _ours_ Harry,” he bites out as Harry claws into him, squirming as everything twists up inside of her, canting her hips desperately back into the hard thrusts of Hermione, the curving depth of Ron’s, his muscles coiling beneath her.

“I’m sorry-“ she gasps out, nearly sobbing as they fuck her, stretched out wide, nerves burning, pleasure coiling impossibly through her and she feels Ron hilting up deep into her – mashing up against the entrance to her womb as warm stickiness fills her up and her mind blankets at the feeling, something strange in her chest as they drag themselves out of her.

Harry barely has time to comprehend Hermione roughly tugging the strap-on off before her legs were being guided into it, yanked sharply in place as she’s pushed back into Ron’s arms , new sensations registering just as Hermione straddles her – something fierce in her expression as she claims her lips into a rough kiss just as she sinks down, muffling Harry’s shocked keen with a twist of her tongue as she jerks up, pushing deeper into Hermione who murmurs soothingly.

But she doesn’t slow down – rising and hilting herself down as Harry clings wide-eyed, back arching, Ron’s hands finding and palming her breasts roughly as she comes with a sharp jerk and a gasp, helpless in the coiling of her nerves, and she cries out as Hermione keeps fucking her, breasts bouncing with every rise and fall, impossible warm and tight – the slick drag making her claw against Ron’s thighs as she’s fucked through her orgasm.

Hermione shifts, dragging Harry down with her and she barely has a moment to prepare herself before a cock was pushing up and against her back entrance, slipping inside with a thrust that spreads her wide open, pushing her down and into Hermione who tightens around her to a shocked noise as she’s mushed tight between her two best friends.

Ron draws back, thrusting forward, dragging her with him and forcing her deep and heavy into Hermione who pushes down with her heels to meet them, and Harry whines, mouth finding and biting down on one of Hermione’s nipples to muffle the noise as a hand buries into her hair to press and keep her there with breathy gasp of her name.

It’s too much – everything too much, overwhelming and harsh and strange.

She comes again, tightening down to a near painful drag, hanging on desperately as Ron keeps fucking her down into Hermione until she tenses tight with a tip of her head and a moan, dragging Harry impossibly deeper, walls pulling her deep to a whimper, and Ron pushes up deep into her, cum spilling into her as he pants, slowly relaxing against her with a drag of his tongue up her spine.

They dislodge themselves carefully, curling together, legs tangling, arms wrapped tight as Harry does a little quiver, feeling the thick cum in her ass, in her pussy, in her belly, aware of the fact that she wasn't on any potions, that they  _knew_ that she wasn't on any potions.

“You’re alive,” Hermione breathes with a kiss to her brow.

“And ours,” Ron murmurs with deep satisfaction.

Harry closes her eyes, exhausted but grounded in their touch, the hazy glow from her orgasms still lingering with a lazy sort of satisfaction.

"Yours," she agrees contently to arms that tighten around her.

**Author's Note:**

> i watched the deathly hallows, it was sad, i had feels, you got this
> 
> I've always loved the golden trio as a concept - as a poly shipper it always makes me go a bit ? when it doesn't turn out to be a natural progression when the solution is so painfully obvious to me. Hence, why I love fanfics - I guess, haha.
> 
> (It doesn't even have to be romantic, platonic life-buds is a wonder as well, like?). 
> 
> Anyway!
> 
> I'm still a bit busy with test coming up on the 11th and 24th so smut is what you're getting until then, I don't have the focus for plotty stuff. But we'll see after that!
> 
> Artsy-death on tumblr if you're hanging around there. Posted a pic of what I use for inspo for my fem!Harry there - just check the "female harry potter inspo" tag, if you're feeling curious.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
